Acabou meu bem
Realiza esse fato
Vai ser maís fácil pra nós dois
Acabou meu bem
Desgarra desse fardo
Liberta os sorriso amargo
Quem sabe outro amor não vem
Acabou meu bem
Sem beijo de fim
Sem promessas vindas de mim
Acabou enfim
O que você queria
Eu já não sabia te amar
Brás Cubas.
sábado, 2 de novembro de 2013
Might be
Might be
There might be waves where is the ocean
There might be clowns without notion
There might be laughs where is the poison
There might be love where are the shadows
There might be light on the windows
There might be sun on the sunset
There might be forgiveness without regrets
There might be some hope when you erase
There might be a bottom for the emotional bomb to reset
There might be regret for the brave
There might be ache on the smile
There might be clocks at the shallow
There might be you on your soul
There might be breath in your sound
There might be the door on the way to get out
There might be the bird to fly high
There might be rain to jump on the sky
There might be us at the end
There might be movies on the frame
There might be folks on the woods
There might be happiness on my skull
There might be songs on the whisper
There might be melody for the singers
There might be flowers for the people
There might be a garden for the equal
There might be at last the moon
There might be the thunder coming soon.
Brás Cubas.
There might be waves where is the ocean
There might be clowns without notion
There might be laughs where is the poison
There might be love where are the shadows
There might be light on the windows
There might be sun on the sunset
There might be forgiveness without regrets
There might be some hope when you erase
There might be a bottom for the emotional bomb to reset
There might be regret for the brave
There might be ache on the smile
There might be clocks at the shallow
There might be you on your soul
There might be breath in your sound
There might be the door on the way to get out
There might be the bird to fly high
There might be rain to jump on the sky
There might be us at the end
There might be movies on the frame
There might be folks on the woods
There might be happiness on my skull
There might be songs on the whisper
There might be melody for the singers
There might be flowers for the people
There might be a garden for the equal
There might be at last the moon
There might be the thunder coming soon.
Brás Cubas.
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